Spontaneity
by snowyplains
Summary: Spontaneity: Spontaneous behavior, impulse, or movement. A bit of NS
1. Default Chapter

Title: Spontaneity   
Author: snowyplains   
Disclaimer: I don't own them, Polaroids or Post-its.   
Rating: PG 

I press the doorbell. "Nick?"

"Come on in. The door's unlocked." he calls. "I'm going to take a shower, so make yourself at home."

I wander in. He had brought in his car for repairs, and needed a ride to work. And since I lived the closest, I voluteered.

I looked around his living room. State of the art laptop turned on, sitting on his coffee table amidst file folders, pens, rented videos and a couple books stacked in the corner.

I open one of his textbooks, and a single photograph falls out. I pick it up, and squint at it. It's a picture of us at the last office formal. I'm laughing and my arms are around him. He looks just as happy, and I remember, slightly tipsy, being told by Warrick to pose for the camera. I turn the picture over. "Me and Sara, 2003" in a bold scrawl. And underneath, in smaller print: 'amazing when she smiles.' I read the sentence twice before I realize who he's referring to.

When it hits me, I actually drop the photograph. I never had any idea he was even aware of me outside a professional context. He had never even hinted. I pick the picture up from the floor, fingering the edges and noticing they were slightly worn. He had obviously handled the picture many times. Nonplussed, I sit down on his couch, mentally running through every major interaction I could remember we had in the last year. Had I just not noticed? Or had he really been that subtle?

There are no other pictures in the book, or in his house, except for a few Polaroids of his family on the fridge. He must have asked Warrick to give him the picture. I stare harder at it. I didn't remember being as happy as I had been in the picture for a while.

I hear the bathroom door open, indicating the end of his shower, and I hurriedly stick the picture back into his book. Burdered by this revelation, I walk down the hall, and into his room, robotically.

"Nick, I...oh hell, I'm sorry." I snapped out of it fast. He was getting dressed.

"No, its okay. What is it?" He looks at me expectantly, and I find myself looking down the the floor, steering my gaze away him, kind of embarassed to see him in boxers only.

"You...you want me to make coffee?" In college, I was known for my ability to think on my feet.

"Yeah, thanks. Coffee grounds are in the left cabinet."

I retreat with an air of purpose and occupy myself with the mundane task. I pour a cup for him as he walks out. He had always liked his coffee black. We stand in companionable silence, him downing his coffee, me, lost in my thoughts.

"I'm just going to grab my jacket and keys, okay?" he asks, putting his mug in the sink.

"Yeah, take your time." I turn on the tap and soak the mug as he walks back into his room.

Struck by a sudden surge of spontaneity, I go back into his living room, rifling through the mess on his coffee table until I locate a small Post-it notepad. "Amazing together" I scribble, knowing he'd recognize my handwriting, and stuck it lightly to the back of the photograph before replacing it carefully in his book.

He reappears in the hallway. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah." I smile, and follow him out the door.


	2. chapter 2

Title: Spontaneity   
Author: snowyplains   
Disclaimer: I still don't own them.   
Rating: PG   
Note: I don't usually write stories with several chapters, but after reading this one again, it really did seem kind of unfinished...so I decided to make it a multi-parter. There'll be at least one more chapter after this one...since it is pretty short. 

"Amazing together." I scrutinize the note until it blurs. I recognized the handwriting right away: it was Sara's. I had spent so long hiding how I felt that it almost seemed anticlimatic now that she seemed to know. 

After getting back from work, I saw the mess my coffee table was buried under, and decided that now would be a good time to clean it. Noticing one book was sitting away from the others, I opened it, and wondered if Sara had found the picture inside. 

Evidently, she had. 

And what now? Mentioning it seemed awkward and unnecessary. I didn't want to show up at her house and ask her about two words she scrawled on a scrap of paper. It might have been nothing but a reference to our working relationship. But I was pretty certain she knew what I meant, at least.   
I idly wonder how she even found the picture in my cesspool of papers and books, and whether she was caught off-guard by it...probably, considering she barreled into my room without knocking that morning. I smile at the memory. Once she hit her stride though, the woman had an amazing poker face. I had to give her credit. She hid her shock well. And if she hadn't left the note, I would have never guessed that she had found my picture. 

Still weighing my options, I quickly cross a confrontation off the list. Suddenly remembering a comment she made during a case a few months ago, I pick up the phone and dial her number, knowing that she was probably out picking up dinner as she usually did after work. The answering machine switches on with a light tone, and I grin. 

"Sara...I'd take you and me over Catherine and Greg any day." 

I don't hear her pick up the phone right before I hang up.


End file.
